


We didn’t realize we were making memories, we just knew we were having fun.

by scheherezhad



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Canon Trans Character, F/M, First Time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-16 22:15:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9291800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scheherezhad/pseuds/scheherezhad
Summary: It's Ronald's freshman year, and he's been keeping his ear out for any mention of opportunities for drinking, dancing, and meeting pretty girls. This particular party is a bit boring, but then he meets a pretty girl named Grell.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a part of an AU I started writing in 2014. It stands alone pretty well, though, as it takes place about a year before the main plot. **Contains mild implied/referenced transphobia and the fear thereof** , so please be aware if you find this upsetting. It's quite mild and brief, though.
> 
> Many thanks to saekhwa for cheerleading me through the original writing process, and to cielsdemon for recently posting some bits of her own reaper college au and encouraging me to share mine. Title apologetically taken from Winnie the Pooh.

Ronald meets them at a party. It's his freshman year, and he's been keeping his ear out for any mention of opportunities for drinking, dancing, and meeting pretty girls. This particular party is a bit boring. The alcohol is all cheap swill not worth subjecting himself to, and most of the girls are ones he's already chatted up. It isn't until he's on his third circuit of the house that he stumbles over a crowd watching four boys play shot roulette.

The current leader seems to be the tall one with his hair braided on one side, grinning broadly at his opponents. One of them pushes away from the table. The others stay in for the next round, though the ginger one wobbles in his chair, looking green. The tall one slaps his hands on the table, calling for another round. Someone slips through the crowd with a fresh tray of miscellaneous shots and plonks them on the table in a rough circle around the spinner bottle.

"Okay, lads, let's go!"

The three players let out a whoop, and the tall one gives the bottle a good twirl. He downs his shot and smirks at the blond fellow next to him. After the third shot, the ginger one leans over and vomits all over the floor. The blond gags a bit and bows out, as well, and the tall one pumps his fists into the air in victory.

"Eriiiic!" someone shouts from the crowd, applauding loudly.

Eric considers the six shots still on the table, then slams them back in quick order. The crowd gives a cheer and starts to disperse.

Ronald glances around for anyone who looks interesting. He's about to make his way over to a pair of girls giggling over something on one of their phones when a hand claps down on his shoulder.

"Oi, blondie!"

Ronald turns and finds Eric standing behind him. Well, calling it 'standing' is a bit generous; he's more hunched and swaying. "Er...yeah?"

"You got-- you got a smoke, man?"

"No, sorry. I don't smoke."

"'S fine. You kn- um...you know? How to, mm, work a belt?" Ronald raises an eyebrow. Eric doesn't seem to notice, too busy tugging at his oversized belt buckle. "I just, I just want to take this thing off, an' I can' remember how it works."

With a glance at the table, Ronald reaches out to snag the nearest chair with his foot. "Might help if you sit down," he suggests.  
Eric swivels his head to look down at the chair and blinks a few times. "Tha's not a bad idea," he mumbles. A moment later, he's sat sideways on the chair, slumped over with a cheek pressed to the sticky table top.

"Oh, really, Eric, must you have?"

Ronald turns and sees a thin, leggy redhead next to him, looking put out. Her long hair is done up in a braid over her shoulder, and her red dress is like a second skin. She looks a bit shorter than Ronald, but her shoes give her a few inches, and he thinks _he_ wouldn't mind giving her a few inches. Ronald clears his throat, and she glances at him.

"Your boyfriend?" he asks her.

"Heavens, no, just friends and occasional sex partners. We're not each other's types at all."

"What is your type, then?" Ronald puts on the cocky grin the girls at his high school ate up and angles his body toward her.

"A bit more on the tall, dark, and threatening side," she says even as she eyes Ronald thoroughly, leaning back a bit to check out his arse. "Although I suppose I could be convinced to make an exception..."

Ronald gives her an easy grin and cocks a hip. "Not so bad yourself, love. Ronald Knox."

"Grell Sutcliff," she says, offering a hand and giggling when he kisses the back of it. "Absolutely charmed. I would so love to get to know you better, but it seems I'm going to have to find a way to haul this oaf back to his dormitory."

"I've a car," Ronald says. "I'm happy to offer my services."

"Oh, you are a peach, Mr. Ronald Knox, an absolute life-saver. However shall I repay you?" The saucy tilt to her smile tells him she has a few ideas that he is definitely on board with.

Ronald nods toward Eric, who is still slumped over the table and appears to be asleep now. "Suppose we should round him up, then, eh? If you don't mind waiting a minute, I'll bring the car round once we've got him outside. Cold air ought to help sort him out anyway."

It's a bit of a trial, as Eric is rather tall and muscular and therefore _heavy_ , but Ronald and Grell manage to heave him to his feet and get him out the door. The house has a low brick wall along the edge of the lawn, which makes an excellent seat for Grell and Eric while Ronald goes to get his car from down the block. By the time he gets back, Eric is coherent enough to fumble himself into the back seat. Not coherent enough to carry a tune, though, and he insists on singing along with the radio the entire way back to his dorm.

He's able to stumble up to his room mostly without assistance, although Grell has to dig his keys out of his pocket and unlock the door for him. They follow him in, and Eric collapses onto one of the unmade beds, flailing around until his shoes are kicked off. Ronald watches as Grell hides Eric's keys and phone behind a pitiful-looking potted plant, writes a note detailing their location, and leaves that under a bottle of water and a bottle of aspirin on Eric's desk.

"Looks like you've done this a couple of times. It's nice," Ronald says.

Grell tugs the blanket up over Eric, and her lips twitch in something like a smile. "Someone did all this for me, once. I like to pay it forward."

"Grelly's awful nice," Eric slurs from the bed. "Sometimes."

"Oh, hush," she says, fondness clear in her voice. "Go to sleep, and I'll check on you in the morning."

Eric mumbles a farewell as Ronald and Grell slip out and head back into the chilly night. Grell plays with her keyring as they cross the parking lot.

"Just, ah, wanting to make sure we're on the same page, here," Ronald says after a moment, "see if you'd like to continue our evening."

"I had rather hoped to. I'm dying for a good shag."

"Been told I'm not too shabby."

Grell smiles but looks away. "Although in the interest of full disclosure, I do want to tell you that I...might not be what you're expecting." She jingles her keys harder, fist clenched around a large keychain that's shaped like a cat's face.

Ronald stops walking and reaches out to lay a hand on her arm. "It can't be that bad, can it? I mean, I suppose I'd be a bit put off if you tell me you're a cannibal or in practice to become a modern-day reverse Jack the Ripper, and I'm to be your next victim."

That gets a real, if brief, laugh out of her, and she turns to face him again. "There's something about you I honestly like, Ronald Knox, and I don't want to spoil what could be a delightfully filthy evening punctuated by the beginning of a remarkable friendship."

"You're a drama major, aren't you?"

"I am, in fact. I'm also a woman with a penis."

Ronald blinks and feels her tense up under his hand. She has the hand with the keychain raised, cat ears poking up over her fist like a weapon. It is a weapon, he realizes. In case he reacted poorly. "Oh."

"Yes."

The idea is...new. Ronald likes the usual girly bits best, but he won't deny that he tosses off thinking about a fit bloke once in a while, and he's given a mate a hand a time or two before. Bodies are bodies, friction is friction. More importantly, it doesn't change his opinion of or his attraction to Grell--not in a negative sense, anyway--and he supposes that's all the answer he needs for himself.

"Okay, then. Okay. Not a problem."

Grell looks somewhat unconvinced, but like she wants to believe him, so he leans in slowly to give her a soft kiss.

"Really, Grell. Not a problem."

"Then let's go back to mine. I have a private room."

Ronald has his own apartment, but he figures Grell wants to be on familiar territory in case anything goes wrong. Back in the car, Ronald starts the engine and turns the heat up. He clears his throat and adjusts his glasses. He glances at Grell.

"Do spit it out, darling," she says. The keys are still in her hand. Her other hand twitches toward the door handle.

"Sorry. Just, tell me if I fuck anything up, yeah?" He puts the car into reverse and gets them out onto the street again. "Because I like you, too, Grell Sutcliff."

Finally, something in her relaxes, and she sinks back into her seat. She directs him to one of the other boys' dormitories on campus, where it turns out she has a single on the first floor, not too far from an exit.

"A poor compromise when they wouldn't allow me ladies' housing," she tells him as she opens the door, voice aiming for light and dismissive but falling heavy with weariness. "It'll do until I manage to scrape together the means to find a little place of my own."

The room is all red, from the rug to the bedding to the swathes of fabric draped about to cover up the sterile whiteness of the walls. It suits her. Ronald tells her so, and she kisses him before pushing him to sit on the bed.

"Give me a minute. I'll be right back."

She disappears through a doorway to what Ronald assumes is an en suite, and he takes the opportunity to take off his jacket and shoes and flip back the duvet. He's busy admiring the high thread count of the sheets when Grell reappears. Her hair is down, a waterfall of red down her back. She leans herself against the doorjamb, letting her red silk robe fall open to reveal lacy red lingerie.

"Phwoar," Ronald breathes, sitting up to take in the whole sight, and her face lights up. "You are a bloody knockout."

She's got a hell of a body, long and lean, a bit lacking in curves for his usual tastes, but clearly meticulously maintained. Ronald grew up around society women who didn't bat an eye at spending thousands on beauty treatments to look like they didn't need to do anything, and he knows the look of a woman who dedicates a great deal of time to her appearance. It is definitely working for Grell.

She exaggerates the swing of her hips as she crosses the room to him, and he catches her by the waist, leaning in to kiss the flat stretch of her stomach just above the red-jewelled barbell through her navel. She's soft and warm there, and Ronald lets his hands wander a bit. One slips around to cup the curve of her arse, and the other traces up along the lace trim on her bra. He finds her nipple with his thumb, teasing it to stiffness in slow passes and making her gasp.

One of her hands tangles in his hair. Ronald loves that, the light scratch of her nails against his scalp; it sends shivers down his spine and makes the skin along the inside of his right thigh tingle. He tugs her down so she's straddling his lap, and she lets her robe slide off so it's out of the way before she loops her arms around his neck. There's a sly tilt to her lips and a challenge in her bright eyes. Not one to back down from a test, he catches her smiling mouth in a kiss that turns into a string of kisses that turn into something open-mouthed and dirty.

She pulls away with a little groan in the back of her throat and reaches back to unhook her bra, but she lets Ronald take it off. After he tosses it aside, his hands curl around her ribs, covering the faint marks the band left on her newly exposed skin, and he shifts to tip her onto her back. She goes gracefully in spite of the narrowness of the mattress, flicking her hair out from behind her as she falls so it's not trapped under her. Ronald braces himself with one arm and leans over her for another kiss before easing off the bed to strip off his own clothes.

Grell watches hungrily as he unbuttons his shirt, her eyes locked on his fingers and the slow reveal of skin. Once it's off, he tosses it over the back of her desk chair with his jacket. Trousers next, and Grell bites her lip when he reveals the stretch of his dark green boxer briefs over his hardening dick. Ronald firms up a little more when she presses her thighs together and squirms a bit.

"Get back here," she demands breathily.

"Whatever the lady wants." He quickly sheds his socks and his watch before coming back to the bed and stretching himself out over her.

Instead of going for her mouth when Grell tugs him down close, Ronald skims his lips along her jaw, takes a detour to the soft spot behind her ear, then makes his way slowly down her neck until he finds a place that makes her shiver and gasp. He stays there a bit before switching sides, where he finds that a bit of teeth makes her sigh, and a bite has her grabbing his hair again and moaning. It jolts down his spine even harder this time, settling as a low throb in his groin.

Ronald rolls his hips, grinding against her thigh to chase the sensation, and he ducks down to mouth at her chest again. Her breath hitches when he worries at one nipple with his teeth. His hands wander down further to stroke over her soft, flushed skin wherever he can reach, and everything's good and easy until he gets down to her panties. She's half-hard under the lace as he hooks his fingers in the sides to tug them down and off.

He pauses and looks up at her flushed face. "What, um. What's okay here?"

Grell traces her nails lightly down his forearms and covers his hands with her own. "It's all right to touch me right now. I'll tell you if it changes," she says, giving him a little nudge to continue.

Ronald drops her panties on the floor and looks at her spread out beneath him. She's got one knee drawn up coquettishly, fingers tracing along her own thigh, and her breathing has sped up with anticipation. He reaches out to follow her fingers with his own. Grell takes up his game, leading him on a merry little chase across her skin and down between her legs.

He spends a few minutes exploring her cock, and he doesn't have to guess when she likes something. She's responsive and vocal, not at all shy about directing him when he's on the right track. Eventually, she presses a condom and a bottle of lube into his hand, and she shows him how to open her up. His own dick is aching fiercely by the time she gasps out that she's ready.

Sliding into her is fucking blissful. He doesn't know about Grell, but it's been a while for him, and the wait for her to give the okay to move feels excruciatingly long. He starts slow, savouring the way she feels around him, how tight and hot she is as he sinks in on each thrust. When he shifts to get better leverage, Grell's string of soft moans and encouraging murmurs spikes into a high-pitched yelp.

" _Oh!_ Oh, there, Ronnie! There, _fuck!_ "

With a low groan of his own, Ronald speeds up, and Grell wraps her legs around him as he does his level best to pound her through the mattress. She's crying out with almost every thrust, now, nails digging sharply into his back. He's getting close, so fucking close, fuck, fuck, shit, _fuck_ \--

"Ronald, ah! A-ahhh!" Grell's voice breaks on a moan as she comes. She buries her face in his shoulder to mute the throaty sound.

"Fuck, ah fuck, _Grell_!" Ronald bucks into her a few more times before his own orgasm slams through him, his hips stuttering as he tries to get deeper inside her.

They spend a few moments shaking against each other, riding out the aftershocks, until Ronald's arms can't support his weight anymore and he has to ease out of Grell. He barely manages to get the condom taken care of before he slumps to his side with exhaustion. Grell makes a tiny noise of dissatisfaction and follows. She curls into him, tucking her head under his chin.

"You okay?" he mumbles.

"Absolutely lovely, darling, now hush," she shoots back, tugging the blanket out from behind him to cover them.

Ronald falls asleep smiling into her hair.

 

He wakes up again with a dead arm and a full bladder, startled out of sleep by a blaring ringtone. Forcing open his heavy eyes, he sees Grell flailing angrily at her nightstand until she finds her phone. She glares down at the i.d. before accepting the call and putting it to her ear.

"Eric Slingby, I swear on the lights of Broadway I will gut you if the first words out of your mouth right now are not apologetically offering monetary compensation for waking me up before ten on a Saturday, after a party, when I have a gentleman friend over--who was also ripped from the sweet arms of slumber by your bedamned ringtone, I might add," she says before Ronald can even manage a coherent thought.

A few moments pass while Eric presumably talks, and Ronald watches Grell's angry expression melt into a scowly little pout.

"I'll need an hour," she says once he's done. She shoots a quick glance at Ronald and amends herself, "Make it an hour and a half. See you then."

After she's hung up, Ronald asks, "What was that about?"

"Eric is taking us for brunch in a bit, but I want you to fuck me again first."

Well.

 

An hour and fifteen minutes later, they're sat on the boot of Ronald's car while they wait for Eric to arrive. Grell steals Ronald's phone to put her number in it, Ronald wonders idly if he pulled something while she was riding him earlier, and the promise of crepes feels like the start of something remarkable.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll gladly take corrections if there's anything Ronald says that sounds super out of place with the rest of his speech pattern. I won't be a bit surprised if I've got some conflicting regional vocab mixed together here.
> 
> Thanks for reading! You can find me on tumblr in [my god-awful jumble of a blog](http://scheherezhad.tumblr.com/).


End file.
